


The sharpest and the surest

by Superstition_hockey



Series: Pee-Wee League [10]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Sex, Exploring Sexuality, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superstition_hockey/pseuds/Superstition_hockey
Summary: Technically, the first time Liam notices Oleksandr Lucavich Volkov, it’s a Sunday afternoon.
Relationships: OC/OC, Sasha Volkov/Liam Northrup
Series: Pee-Wee League [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133492
Comments: 61
Kudos: 133





	The sharpest and the surest

**Author's Note:**

> From Chapter 32 of Kinktober: "...Considering that the one time you did try to pull a bloke you went home with me, the most dangerous of anyone I’ve mentioned so far, I don't think it matters, guy or woman. Or any other gender."" 
> 
> Here is the story of how Sasha and Liam meet for the first time, alluded to in the sentence above in the Kinktober chapter about them. It was written to be fairly stand alone and then after I wrote it I realized I wanted to write more and it sat in my Googledocs while I tried to figure out how to write a 30k action-spy-adventure plot to follow it. Once I figure out how to write something with an actual plot, I'll finish the rest of their adventures, but until then, here is the story of how they first met.

Technically, the first time Liam notices Oleksandr Lucavich Volkov, it’s a Sunday afternoon. He’s home in between missions, turns on the telly and the Rio Open is on. Volkov forces an error against his American opponent. It’s not like Liam’s really gripped by passion for fucking tennis, but there’s no football on. Volkov’s arse looks phenomenal in those little white shorts. He watches the rest of the match play out until Southampton vs Liverpool comes on. 

The second time Liam notices Oleksandr Volkov, Liam’s coddling a wayward asset in a nightclub in Miami. He walks into the loo and sees a dark haired guy with impressive bone structure and his pants around his ankles, getting a blowjob from a slim blonde who he’s… pretty sure is Adrianna Wijk, the notorious gem thief. He thinks, “Yikes," and also, "huh, he looks like that tennis player with the great bum that won in Rio.” But he follows standard nightclub etiquette: averts his eyes, pisses, washes his hands, pushes the door open with the towel because everything in that toilet is a little bit sticky and returns to his table. In his absence Arne has brought back shots, and he doesn’t think about the man in the bathroom again. 

The third time, he’s in a divey gay bar two blocks down from his flat, and it is definitely the same dark haired guy from the a month ago in Miami, and he is also, more obviously in the natural lighting of outside terrace, definitely the same guy that came in second at the Monte-Carlo Masters a week or so ago. He is also, equally obviously, doing the saddest, awkwardest, straight-acting attempt at cruising Liam’s ever seen. It’s so pathetic Liam feels sorry for him. 

It’s out of the goodness of his heart, really, that he intervenes. Volkov accepts a drink and when Liam asks him if he wants to get out of here he seems relieved. Liam’s so thankful he came out, accidentally, when he was 12 years old and told his whole family over Christmas dinner that he was going to marry Arsenal's then-midfielder. Liam had a poster of him on his wall, above his bed. No one in his family was surprised, at all, when he came out, though they teased him about the poster for years, because Liam didn't even like Arsenal. Hell, his sisters still sometimes tease him about that damn poster, but he feels lucky for it, now, watching Volkov wobble around Dicky’s like a new baby gay. 

Back in Liam’s flat, Volkov lets himself be kissed up against the door frame to the kitchen, gets his kit off when Liam starts lifting his shirt for him, and when they stagger into the bedroom and Liam asks, “so what do you…”, Volkov squares his shoulders and says, “I’ll bottom.” He hesitates for a second and then says, “unless you mind?” 

Liam blinks in surprise. There’s no way in hell he minds getting at that arse, but he also didn’t really think he had a shot at it. Liam is not going to look a gift horse in his mouth. Volkov’s a grown-ass man, and if he says he wants to bottom, Liam is not arguing with him. 

“Fuck yes,” he breathes and pushes Volkov onto the mattress. 

Liam just gets the feeling, like some sort of gay spidey sense, that if it’s not the first time Volkov’s bottomed, it’s certainly not something he’s done a lot. Liam may not be about to argue with his position choices, but he’s still going to be a gentleman about it. He takes his time. He warms up the lube and licks him out a little. He finds Volkov’s prostate while he scissors him open real nice and slow, before he slides on the condom, slicks himself and slides in. Five minutes later, Liam sits back on his heels, stares sadly at the other man’s frankly breathtaking arse, and says, “look, mate, I’m going to regret this, because goddamn, but uh… you don’t really seem to be loving this. Do you wanna switch it up? Some guys just don’t like bottoming, it’s okay.”

“Yeah alright” Volkov sighs from where his head’s buried in the cross of his arms. 

By the time Liam’s opened himself up, they’ve maneuvered themselves around, and found another condom, Liam’s lost most of his erection, but he figures he can get it back easy enough, he just needs to…

Oh. Volkov’s almost completely flaccid, sitting there on the bed with the condom in his hand, making a wry face at Liam. 

“Um.” 

A lesser man might take it personally, honestly, but Liam is not worried about his general level of appealingness.

“Do you even like fucking blokes?” comes tumbling out of Liam’s mouth before he can stop himself.

“Honestly” Volkov sighs, “I think I might be straight.” 

Liam’s fucked plenty of guys who suddenly miraculously remember they’re straight after the sex. But none who legitimately realized they were straight mid-encounter. 

“Wow.” Liam says. 

Volkov winces. “Sorry.” 

“Why are you trying to get picked up at a gay club then?” Liam wonders. 

“Uh... well... it’s kind of a long story.”

Liam sighs. Stands up. He wanders over to his dresser, pulls out a pair of joggers, and after a seconds thought, pulls out a second pair and tosses them at Volkov’s head. Then he walks out to the kitchen. When he closes the fridge door, Volkov’s standing, barefoot, in the hallway, in the joggers and a t-shirt. Liam holds a beer out to him. “Rugby’s on.” he offers, gesturing towards the blank screen. 

“Oh thank god,” Volkov breathes and throws himself down onto the couch. 

Liam sits down next to him, turns the power on, and clinks his bottle against Volkov’s, “cheers.”

“Cheers” Volkov echoes.

“We’re rooting for Bath.” Liam says firmly.

“Like fuck we are,” Volkov stares at him, shocked. 

Eight beers between them later, Bath has won, Volkov is pouting, and Liam is feeling tipsy enough himself that it seems perfectly normal to grab Volkov’s shoulder, and say, “look…Oleksandr. Alex? Alec? Olek? Sandy??”

Volkov snorts, but Liam carries on:

“Alec. What the fuck, man.”

Volkov finishes his bottle in one last swig, sets it down gently on the coaster, and then says, “It's Sasha. And I guess I just... thought I'd try something different, I guess." 

"Tell me about it," Liam muses, and Sasha does.

**Author's Note:**

> all characters are fictional, not based on anyone in real life. Don't post to other sites. I'm at superstitionhockey on tumblr


End file.
